


Asa'ma'lin

by Katalyna_Rose



Series: Kahlia Mahariel [26]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 19:49:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13982085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katalyna_Rose/pseuds/Katalyna_Rose
Summary: Morrigan believed her ritual had failed to save the life of her only friend, despite her son having been born with the soul of the Old God and she had borne that guilt, until an old friend appeared seemingly out of nowhere to grant her peace.





	Asa'ma'lin

“Orlesian masks are for decoration, not hiding,” Morrigan told the silent presence at her back. She didn’t bother to turn around. “You did not truly think I would not recognize you, did you? If so, that would be sad indeed.”

A rich chuckle met her words as an elven man stepped out of the shadows that led back into the ballroom. “I would not do you the insult of believing anything but the truth, that you spotted me the moment I arrived,” he said, voice warm and thickly accented with Antiva’s rolling syllables. Morrigan turned with a smile.

“Have you come to kill me, then?” she asked him, still smiling in welcome as she adjusted a glove. She didn’t want to fight him, but she had to protect her son. “If so, I wonder if you are here because of a contract for the Crows or because I failed to save her. Would you do me the courtesy of telling me which it is before we battle?”

Blond hair flashing in the torchlight, white teeth revealed for only a moment before being tucked away again. Yet he looked different. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been drowning in grief, dark bags under his eyes, hair unwashed for over a week, skin sunken and yellowing as he withered away without his love. She had brought out the best in him, in all of them. She was the anchor to keep them in the reality of their coming victory, the beacon to light their way through the darkest paths. She had been Morrigan’s only true friend, someone who gave without expecting anything in return, who actively went out of her way to make certain she was comfortable. It was for her sake that Leliana had been so vicious when they saw each other again; Morrigan was not the only friend that woman had made on the journey to defeat the Blight, but she was the one who was supposed to ensure her survival. And she had failed.

Yet the elf before her now was distinctly different from the one she remembered. His hair was healthy and gleaming, his face had lost all traces of malnourishment, even those that had existed before they’d met, his eyes were bright and dancing. It was puzzling. True, it had been a decade and some since the last time they’d spoken, but she knew him to be a loyal man and she knew he’d taken her death hardest of them all. Something was different.

He grinned with real amusement. “So you think I am capable of killing you? I tried once, if you recall, and failed rather spectacularly,” he reminded her, referring to how they’d met. She smiled.

“That was a long time ago, however,” she murmured. He laughed.

“You think I have learned so many new tricks that I would be able to defeat you?” he asked. “Perhaps you overestimate me. Or underestimate your own skills. But in any event, it is a moot point. I am not here to harm you. In fact, I am here to grant you peace.”

Morrigan laughed suddenly and briefly. “What peace is there to be found for me?” she asked rhetorically. “I am an apostate living at the Orlesian Imperial court as a decoration for the Empress. I have just been assigned to the Inquisition, which is perhaps not the worst assignment I’ve been given, yet still not ideal.”

“How is your son, Morrigan?”

She sighed. “He is plagued by dreams, of course,” she admitted. “Whatever happened on that tower that day, however she died, the Old God soul still passed to my son.” She paused before admitting, “I worry for him. However his existence began, whatever caused me to create him, he is my son and I care for him. This ancient knowledge I have burdened him with takes its toll.” They were silent for a few moments longer. “I regret it, you know,” she told him softly. “I truly believed it would save her.” He looked away. “I wanted to save her more than I wanted whatever power would be born. I love my son and I am glad to have him, but she should have…” She couldn’t continue, simply shook her head sadly.

“That is good to know,” a new voice said, and Morrigan looked around sharply. She couldn’t find the source, however. She couldn’t sense from which direction eyes were watching her nor catch a glimpse of any figure in the shadows. She whipped her head around yet saw nothing, sensed nothing. “I am glad that you did not wish for my death, nor see me as the means to an end. Here is your peace, asa’ma’lin.”

From the deepest shadows there was movement, the glimmer of elven eyes in the darkness, and a woman emerged. She was covered in scars, pale skin crossed with so many that she was nearly disfigured by them. Bright red hair was pulled back and secured at the back of her head, sleek around her face though riotous curls flew free from the tie and coursed over her shoulders. Eyes like molten gold bored into Morrigan as though they could see right into her soul, and that was what made recognition flare.

“Kahlia?” she whispered, almost horrified. Her only friend nodded, face an expressionless mask.

“Aneth ara,” she said, voice inflectionless. “What happened to me was not your doing. You did, in fact, save my life with your ritual. You don’t need to carry that guilt.”

“But what happened?” she asked, stepping forward. Subtly, Zevran moved to intercept as Kahlia moved away.

“The answers you seek are not yours to take,” Kahlia told her cryptically. “I would have let you believe that I am dead like the rest of the world except that I am here on business.”

“Why do you allow everyone to think you are dead?” Morrigan asked, growing more confused by the moment. Her world had just been turned upside down and she was struggling to understand.

“She is dead,” Zevran told her softly, now planted firmly in her path to Kahlia. “The Hero of Ferelden died killing the Archdemon. Kahlia is not that woman anymore.”

“But what happened?” she asked again.

“It’s best that you don’t know,” Kahlia told her. In those once-expressive eyes a fury like nothing Morrigan had ever seen flashed briefly before it was tucked away. The flames in Kahlia’s heart rivaled those of her own mother, the ancient abomination known as Flemeth. Morrigan shuddered and decided that perhaps she was right, it was best that this question remain unanswered.

“You have in your possession a rather rare artifact,” Zevran told her, distracting her from Kahlia. “It is an amulet that you believe to be Tevinter in origin. It causes ripples in the air around it and you don’t know why. We need it.”

“Why would you need it or believe that I would simply hand it over?” Morrigan asked, affronted.

Kahlia tilted her head, predatory in the way her body changed. She no longer seemed passive and small and broken; she looked like a dragon ready to strike. “What makes you think we need your approval?” she asked, her voice gaining life. But what was heard there was frightening, cold and ruthless; Kahlia was nowhere to be found in that voice. The woman who had sat with her on long nights and asked about magic with endless curiosity and compassion, who had wanted to know about living alone in the woods and seen the beauty it could offer as well as the loneliness, was not there. “We ask as a courtesy, but we will take it regardless. Perhaps Zevran cannot defeat you if you should choose to fight, but I can. I have always been able to and you know that.”

Morrigan was stunned to silence by the threat, one that her friend would never have uttered despite its truth. “You are correct,” she finally admitted. “Whatever tricks I have, you are trickier. I did not sense you watching from the shadows at all.” Something like pride flickered in Kahlia's eyes before quickly being extinguished by the weight of her agony and fury. “As an extension of your courtesy, then, would you tell me what your interest is in the amulet? I did not think that either of you would find such a thing of interest.”

They exchanged a weighted look that Morrigan couldn’t interpret. “We have… a new employer,” Zevran told her with an easy grin that failed to hide the misgivings in his eyes. Kahlia showed nothing at all. “He is currently collecting artifacts such as this amulet in your possession.”

“Why?” Morrigan asked, suspicious and curious. What could bring Kahlia out of hiding, if indeed that was where she had been?

“That is not your concern,” Kahlia declared, advancing. Morrigan shied back from the stranger with her friend’s appearance, but she did not attack. Instead she reached around her neck and unclasped the chain there, then pulled the amulet free from under the necklace it had been hidden under. Once revealed to the light, it swirled and sparked with energy. A flash of light distracted her briefly and when she looked again the amulet was hidden. She smiled a little.

“You are still quick,” she admitted. Kahlia said nothing. “You will vanish again, then? ‘Tis likely for the best. You are right; the woman who was my friend seems to have died to end the Blight.” Kahlia inclined her head.

“What happened to me was not your fault,” she said again, making Morrigan wonder if her friend was still in there somewhere. “Asa’ma’lin, you did everything you could.” That word meant sister, but it didn’t sound the same anymore without the smile in Kahlia’s voice.

A voice called from the ballroom and Morrigan turned briefly to call back. When she turned again, the pair of elves had vanished as though they’d never been. Morrigan shook her head. She would keep the incident to herself; she knew better than to blab secrets like this one.

 

**Author's Note:**

> When did I write this? I never posted it anywhere but I found it hidden in my documents. How? Why? When? I have no memory of this at all!


End file.
